The Ice Queen and Her Three Captains.

Megan's POV  "Cole, I have told you several times to close the sit toilet," I screamed, standing in the bathroom doorway, staring at the toilet lid as if it had personally offended me. My eye twitched. I could feel the movement. I slowly slid down and sat on the bare floor with my apron. I kept the laundry basket on the floor. A huge sense of regret filled my mind. My apron was crumpled beside it, stained with pasta sauce from dinner the night before. My mum's voice echoed in my head, telling me not to move in together with Cole at 18, and one year later, I regretted that move. I wouldn't blame myself entirely. Cole and I were high school sweethearts. I thought that meant something; my mind roamed as I squeezed the apron so hard. I didn't even notice until I saw the wrinkles. I got up, grabbed the laundry basket, and headed straight to the washing machine. I started shoving the clothes inside hard. One by one, I just threw them. Whites, reds, any colour. It didn't matter. The machine rumbled to life. I watched the clothes spin. I looked at it deeply, and slowly my mind flashed back. When we moved in together, things were different. Cole had been sweet. Attentive. Supportive. We were both chasing our dreams. He wanted professional hockey. I wanted to be a journalist. Back then, we felt like a team. Now it felt like I was his unpaid assistant. I left the machine running as I walked into the bedroom, and I swung my head in the direction of the mirror twice and caught my reflection. For a moment, I barely recognized myself in the mirror; I was a shadow of myself. I didn't even remember when I last went to the salon. I just packed my hair in a bun from lecture to work, then to the house, Cole's laundry, Cole's meal prescribed by his coach, and Cole's needs. "Cole, you don't do anything. At least pick up your socks from the floor." I spat those words with every strength in me. "Come on, Megan, you know I have a game tonight. I don't need to be stressed out." That was Cole's response. I walked up to him and held him by the throat. After a few minutes he was already breathless. Sadly, that was just my imagination. "Cole, I understand you have a game, but I do all the house chores, go to work to pay my tuition, and then go to class. At least you're on scholarship, so the only thing you can do is pick up your socks." I knew I screamed, but that was the only way he had proven he listened. I stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut. I didn't care if I was too harsh. A few hours passed, and I cooked Cole his lunch and got his pack ready for the game. I could hear Cole's footsteps coming from the bedroom. He was clearly angry, as I saw the wrinkles on his frowning face and his harsh pace. He picked up the pack and left. "Bye," he said, his face looking straight at the door, clearly avoiding eye contact, and the door closed shut. Not even a peck, at least. I knew he got enough of that from those sorority girls who were chasing him with his new little fame. I didn't even need that. I just wanted the house all to myself. I moved to the room, trying to get a few seconds of sleep before starting my school project. I opened the bedroom door, and then I saw a black, worn-out sock with a hole at the tip. It was clearly Cole's sock. I tightened my hands, trying to inhale some air. I screamed with rage. That was the only way to free my chest. "Cole!" I snapped completely and moved straight to the closet, brought out my clothes, opened the box, and seized all the clothes that could fit. Within minutes, the box was zipped, but not completely. I didn't have the patience to battle with the zip. I picked the box from the bed and stormed out of the house. I didn't even know where I was heading, but I just wanted to leave this life. And I did. And I promised myself I would never look back. COLE'S POV The car honked, and I regained my consciousness. Complaining over a pair of socks was crazy. Did she know how hard it was being a player? I slid into the parking lot of the college stadium. Right then, I had to focus and aim on winning the game. I got to the locker room, changed, and got ready for the game. I sat on the bench. "Cole, are you ready? You look a bit off," Warren, my team's goalie, asked. "I'm fine. Just prepping." I had to lie. I didn't want to show that I was worried. That was not good for the game, especially as we were playing the New York Fury. Their new player Theo was one we couldn't underestimate. "Okay, ladies, let's get going," my coach called out. I slid into the stadium, and as usual, the crowd cheered. As an attacker, I stood forward. "I hope all you sissies are prepared to lose," the new player, Theo, said. I was quite shocked by his confidence. "We don't talk, we win," I replied, knowing it was a good comeback. Moments into the game, and Theo's confidence was not all talk. He was really good. They were just two goals ahead of us. I knew in no time we would catch up to them. Then the horn blew, and the game was over. The New York Fury won. I hadn't taken note of the time. I guessed Theo was their new star player. Seeing their celebration brought flashes of the argument that afternoon. It was Megan's fault. I went back to the locker room. I sat on the bench, my hand clutching hard to the seat. "We just lost one game. We still have more before the championship league," the coach said, walking up to me. "Cole, what happened out there? If there is anything, fix it. I can't have my star player acting up during the game." I nodded because that was all I could do. I headed out of the locker room after changing, with Warren. "I knew it was about your girl Megan," he said. I sighed. He was technically right. As we moved out, we saw a couple of pretty girls with signs cheering us on, all types. "You see what I've been telling you, Cole. You are out of Megan's league. You can get any girl you want." I stared at one particular girl. Blonde, curvy, beautiful. She came on to me flirtatiously. Maybe Warren was right. I grabbed onto her. "So, what is your name, pretty?" She smiled, staring straight into my eyes. "I'm Gina," she replied with a wink. I deserved a woman matching my league. A woman who wouldn't complain about the slightest things. I moved with her in my arms and headed to the car. Warren got into his car with a pretty girl as well. Gina directed me to her sorority house, where they were hosting a party. After a twenty-minute drive and Gina's seductiveness, I arrived. We got out of the car, and she led the way to her room, passing a series of people, freshmen, and make-outs. We climbed the stairs to her room. Immediately I got in, she was already all over me, pulling my shirt, as I reciprocated the actions. She pushed me against the wall and kissed me vigorously. I felt her hand going down my pants, but I held it. Within seconds, I ran out of the room. I couldn't bring myself to do it. By 12 a.m., I was already home. I grabbed my phone on the passenger seat to call Megan, but imediately reconsidered. I didn't want to disturb her. But on the road, the thought of Megan came flashing. I felt a little guilty about what I had done, but I couldn't blame myself entirely. She pushed me to it with all her nagging. I parked and came down from the car, climbed my apartment building, and noticed the door was locked. Well, it was late, so Megan had to lock it. I pulled out the keys, walked in, full of exhaustion, pulled my shoes and socks off in the living room, and moved straight to the room. The house was dark. I didn't want to disturb Megan and have her start with her nagging again. I pulled my clothes off gently and went into the shower. I felt a deep sense of relief as the water streamed down my body. Soon I was all dressed, ready to go to bed. I lay on the bed. I noticed Megan was not in bed. It was unlike her. Was it possible she was out? I brought my phone and checked the time. It was 12:50 a.m. Not possible. My mind went straight to the partially empty closet. I quickly stood up from the bed and checked the closet, just to confirm, and saw it was empty. "What? How could she leave?" My chest was tight. I ran to the door, opened it, glanced down, searching if I would see her, then ran back inside. After an hour, I finally came to the reality that she was gone. "I don't need her." I held myself on the couch, squeezing the pillow. It was good she left. I adjusted on the sofa, watching the ceiling fan move. I told myself she would come back. The next day, I told myself the same thing. Then the next. And the next. I never saw Megan again. But who knew fate would bring our paths to cross? Five years later, and I was still wrong.